Shadows of A Dark Past
by Cumor
Summary: A memory comes back to haunt and test Severus. Will he be up to the challenge?
1. Default Chapter

"Mr. Black. Mr. Potter. Kindly take your seats so that my class may begin." The young teacher stood before the rambunctious fifth year class, her arms folded, foot tapping, obviously irritated. This was just her second year teaching and her first at Hogwarts. Being saddled with James Potter and Sirius Black she wondered if there would be a third. She certainly had not struck fear into the hearts of her students. "Mr. Black, I will not tell you again. Take your seat and leave Miss Simmons alone."

"Sit down," whispered Remus to his cohorts. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Oh come on, Remus, you can be so dull sometimes, do you know that? We're just lightening the mood a little. Defense is such a dark subject. What's she going to do anyway," James chided his friend.

"Take you to the Headmaster, Mr. Potter. I can have you suspended from the house team. I assume that you are planning on making a career of quidditch since that is all you care to study, but you better buckle down if you plan on passing any of your O.W.L.s."

"Yes, Professor Purefoy," James' tone was mocking but he and Sirius slumped into their desks just the same.

"Thank you. Now last class we began to discuss vampires and all of you should have read the chapter. Who can give me a fact that they found interesting but that is not common knowledge? Mr. Pettigrew?"

"I don't know. I didn't find it interesting reading."

"Mr. Pettigrew, you are going to have to put forth more effort. You can't expect your friends to bail you out every time. How about you, Mr. Snape? Did you find an interesting fact?"

Severus looked awkward and mumbled an incoherent reply.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Snape, but you'll have to speak up."

"They run with werewolves...work for them." His black eyes shot a fleeting knowing look at Remus that went undetected by all but Potter's gang.

"Very good, Mr. Snape. Ten points to Slytherin."

"Well he would know all about vampires, wouldn't he," snorted Sirius? "Just look at him. Did you make coffin this morning?"

"That is quite enough, Mr. Black. One more outburst from you and I'll see you in detention." He glared at the professor but didn't utter another sound.

"Not everyone finds you charming, Sirius. Keep quiet before you cost us house points. Between you and James we're lucky to have any at all," hissed Remus.

"You saw him imply..."

"I did. Now shut up."

"There are several ways that you can kill a vampire. Sunlight, fire, decapitation, and of course the tried and true stake through the heart. However, now we have a new garlic based potion that offers a quick clean kill."

"With modern sun block sunlight is rarely fatal and recent results from garlic potion testing show that it only works on certain colonies. Italian vampires are immune because in their human past they build up a resistance to garlic which carries over in the transfor...ma...tion," the voice trailed off as Severus became aware of all the eyes on him, not the least of which belonged to the professor. He hadn't meant to speak out loud and it was with rising horror that he realized he had.

"Did you just correct me, Mr. Snape?"

"I... I had just read..."

"In your textbook?" He remained silent. "I thought not. Never correct me, Mr. Snape. That is not your place." Her voice was extremely soft but not a student missed a word. An undertone of murmurings rang through the classroom as speculations were made about Severus' fate.

"Ol' Sniveley put his foot in it this time," Black roared with glee.

"Mr. Black, that is detention tomorrow afternoon with Mr. Filch."

"What?" Sirius' voice echoed with rage. "All I did was say what everyone was thinking."

"Don't raise your voice to me. I warned you, you failed to heed that warning and now you will suffer the consequences of your actions. I am the professor of this class, Mr. Black. When I require your input I shall solicit it from you. Until that time you are to remain quiet and attempt to learn something."

James and Remus looked at Sirius with a great deal of concern. They were afraid of how he would react and were prepared to intervene if the professor required their assistance but Sirius held his tongue and took to reading in his text. "That's much better. Thank you, Mr. Black. Now, Mr. Snape," she turned her attention to the frail boy who seemed to grow more pale at her voice. "You will stay after class so that you may explain what credentials you possess that give you the right to teach this class. Maybe a day or two of detention will serve to remind you exactly who is the student and who is the teacher." The boy did not answer but seemed to withdraw further into himself.

When class finally ended and the bustling push of students had exited the room, Patrice's glance fell on the still silent figure that remained at his desk. His head was hung low, long black hair shielding his face. Never had she beheld a more pitiful creature in her life.

"Mr. Snape." He shrank at the sound of his name. She walked slowly towards his desk. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" He shook his head while keeping his eyes on the scarred desktop. "Nothing at all? No defense for yourself?" He shook his head once again. Her voice was soft and controlled but he could detect her irritation with him and it stung like a slap in his face. Severus respected Professor Purefoy and wanted nothing more than to please her. Now his foolishness had drawn her justifiable anger instead.

"Look at me, Mr. Snape." He didn't feel that he could but struggled to obey. His liquid midnight black eyes met hers briefly before they returned to the safety of the desktop. In that fleeting instant she saw such pain in his eyes that she felt her heart would break for the tormented boy. She could see the abuse he had suffered reflected there and marveled at his strength of character ; his ability to retain compassion for others. She laid a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder but he flinched at her touch.

"You are the most brilliant young man in this class and I believe in this whole fifth year group. You have unlimited potential, do you know that? I truly don't want to punish you but I have to. I need you to understand this. If I were to let this show of disrespect go unanswered I will have to contend with a whole school of Sirius Blacks challenging me for the rest of the year at the very least. I have to maintain order."

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's for your own good as well, Severus. You must realize that they will taunt you for being a teacher's pet if I let this go."

"They taunt me anyway, but I so understand," his voice was sad and resigned.

"Come to my office tonight. You can help me grade essays for your detention. It won't be an exciting evening but no doubt your detention will be more pleasant than Mr. Black's."

A muffled laugh escaped the boy. "That's good. I was afraid you didn't know how to laugh. I'm your teacher, Severus, but I hope you will also let me be your friend. If you ever need to talk to someone I'll be here for you."

He raised his head finally and looked at Patrice. She was serious. She wasn't mocking him. She was offering him friendship. Severus wasn't sure how to respond and settled for a smile and nod of acceptance.

"You may go but remember, my office tonight at eight sharp."

"Yes, ma'am." He left the room feeling much happier than he ever remembered feeling in his life.

That was many years ago. Patrice Purefoy was standing in the corridor talking with Professor Flitwick when Professor Snape walked by. She smiled as she caught sight of the tall self-assured potions professor. He had grown into a truly striking man and a top instructor from what she had heard. She taught at a magic school in what once was the Soviet Union but tried to keep tabs on her old student. When vacation brought her to England she was happy to find him teaching at Hogwarts. She would have to touch base with him and catch up but didn't want to stop him in the hall when he appeared to be on an important mission. What Patrice didn't realize was that she had already caught his eye.


	2. A teacher's sympathy

He sat at his desk in the quiet of his office when a soft knock disturbed his thoughts. "Enter."

The girl appeared quite timid as she stepped into the darkened room. Her nervousness showed through in the way she rung her hands and kept her eyes on the cold stone floor.

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger. Please take a seat, "his velvet voice called in the dimness. She sat in the chair that he had placed before his desk, her back straight and tense as her hands clasped each other in her lap. "You have never been in a situation such as this before, have you? Never been punished?"

"No, sir. At least never in school," she squeaked, sounding very much like a scared little mouse. He drew a slow deep breath and settled back in his chair, his dark eyes on the girl who refused to meet his gaze.

"I recall a young boy who found himself in a very similar situation once. He was extremely nervous and angry with himself for getting into trouble. Like you, he had spoken out of turn and was called down for it. He knew he was wrong but hoped for a miracle to save him from being reprimanded. His professor felt sorry for him but had to follow through with her threat or risk loosing control of her class." He grew quiet and reflective for sometime before he came to a startling decision. "Miss Granger, that professor couldn't afford to be lenient but I can. No one is going to take my class from me and I hardly believe anyone would be foolish enough to consider you my pet, so just this once I will let you off with this warning; NEVER speak out of turn again. If you have a question as to why I use an ingredient, ask me. Don't tell me a better way of doing something. Is that clear?"

Hermione was confused by the change in her professor's character but knew better than to question fate. "Yes, sir," she answered softly.

"Good. Now go before I change my mind and have you preserving frog spleens for a week." As the girl reached the door his silken voice stopped her. "Oh, one more thing, Miss Granger... you were right."

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Now she was truly shocked. Had she bested the potions master at his own game? And if indeed she had, why in the world would he ever admit to it?

"You were correct, Miss Granger," he spoke slowly as if he thought her dim-witted. "Opal granules do weaken a potion by scattering the stored energy. That is the very reason for its use in this particular tonic. Without it's effects the draft would be so strong the user may never awaken."

"Oh. I didn't think about that."

"That is obvious. You are dismissed, Miss Granger."

As the door opened a tawny owl flew into the office and settled on the professor's desk. It dropped a note it had clutched in its beak and launched itself back into the air following the girl out of the dungeon room. As Severus eyes fell on the familiar handwriting a smile curved his thin lips.

Severus,

Meet me tonight in Hogsmeade for drinks.

It's been far to long and I can't wait to catch up.

I am looking forward to tonight.

Yours always,

Patrice

His smile widened as he threw the note into the fire. Yes, he could do with a drink and a good friend right now and Patrice was always such pleasant company. It had been a long time and he would certainly enjoy getting reacquainted with his old teacher; a teacher who had taught him so much.


	3. An old debt

The Hogshead was oddly busy when the dark wizard entered the smoky tavern. A brief glance told him all the regulars were there, the wizarding world riff-raff. This was a place he genuinely felt he belonged. "What are you doing, Severus," his mind berated him." You've heard the rumors. You know you shouldn't be here with her."

"I don't care. I deserve a little pleasure for a change," he hissed out loud but no one paid any attention to him. A movement from the table in the corner drew his attention. Patrice. After all this time she was just as lovely as he remembered. She was attired in a flowing sky blue and silver robe. He smiled as he made his way through the crowd. "Still every bit the Ravenclaw I see."

"And look at you. Straight out of Slytherin colors and into the black of despair?"

"Not precisely despair, but perhaps a touch of mourning." He bent over and brushed his lips to hers. As he drew away her hand raked through his ebony hair and pulled him close once again.

"I know you can do better than that. Or have you lost your touch, Severus?" Her eyes glittered playfully as she pressed her mouth firmly to his. Her tongue flicked against his lips and he complied, allowing her probing tongue full access to the warmth of his mouth. He had forgotten how aggressive she could be or how wonderful she felt. He moaned softly as she broke the kiss and released him.

"That was much better, don't you think?"

"I don't think that would be considered appropriate behavior for school instructors and certainly not in public." He took the seat opposite from her and waved to the bartender for drinks. "Still drinking meade?"

"Vodka."

"So the north has changed you after all."

"Not so much." She laid her hand on top of his. "And what is your poison these days?"

"Poitin, Irish moonshine. But I cut it with a little meade ... in memory." Drinks were ordered and small talk continued for sometime before Patrice made her move.

"I heard you had become a Death Eater."

"That's right."

"But now you work for Albus Dumbledore."

"I'm a Hogwarts professor. Of course I work for Dumbledore."

"That's not the context I had in mind. I am told that you have turned spy. Rumblings in the north tell that He Who Must Not Be Named is back and gaining strength. That Dumbledore is raising an army bent on his destruction. That you are a spy for both camps."

He laughed coldly as he drained his glass. "Me? A double agent? Where do you come up with these fantasies? I am a simple potions professor. Do you think Dumbledore would trust the word of a Death Eater anyway?"

"I think he would be foolish not to."

"Do you think me so ignorant that I would cross the Dark Lord? I have no death wish, my dear."

She refilled his glass and handed it to him. He took a drink and felt familiar warmth spread from his chest and through his body.

"Do you know how much I loved you as a child, Patrice? Truly know how much you still mean to me? I grieved when I heard that you were lost in an avalanche. I thought you were dead all this time and when you finally return you accuse me of being a spy? I could never betray my Lord." He unbuttoned his cuff and, raising his sleeve, exposed the Dark Mark that marred the smooth whiteness of his forearm. "I have but one master, Patrice. Who do you serve?" The veritaserum caused his speech to slur slightly but Patrice was happy with the results. Patrons of the tavern would take him as a simple drunk but she knew the real reason for his outburst.

"So you really aren't an agent of Dumbledore's?" She spoke gently as if to a child and caressed his face while gazing into the depths of his eyes.

"Of course not. Why would I form an allegiance with that old fool? The Dark Lord possesses the only true power and it has always been power that I crave, power ...and you."

"Ah, well I can't offer power but I have rented a small room above the bar for a few days. Would you care to join me?" She stood up and offered him her hand.

He looked at her outstretched hand then into her gentle face. Turning away he muttered, "I haven't finished my drink," clinging to the glass like a drowning man to a life rope.

"I think you've had enough."

"NO," he snarled like a madden animal.

"Fine. Well I'm heading up. I'm in room two when you have finished your drink, if you are interested." She kissed his pale cheek and left, going through a door to the left of the bar.

He stared into his glass, swirled the contents around, and then with a defeated sigh poured the veritaserum laced alcohol onto the dusty floor. Was there no one he could trust? There were times he even doubted Dumbledore even though the great wizard had never given him a reason to doubt. He thought he knew Patrice, loved her. Now he wondered if she had ever really loved him? Maybe the kindness she had shown him in his youth was just another deception. She had drawn him in, stolen his youth, and stolen his innocence. With a loud pop the tumbler crushed in his hand.

"You alright there," the barkeep called to him.

"Fine. Sorry about that."

"No trouble." The bartender flicked his wrist and the glass vanished to be replaced with a surprising clean one. With a snap, a bar rag appeared on the table near the glass. "Thought you could use that for your hand. Guess you don't know your own strength."

"I guess I don't." Severus wrapped the dirty towel around his hand to stop the flow of blood then poured himself another glass of poitin. The clear liquid burned his throat but it was clean and pure and that was something that he needed right now. He needed the assurance that purity had not vanished from this world. His mind wandered to his apprentice. Would she betray him as well? No, he was the one that was betraying her. His hatred and anger turned inward. Was he doing to this young woman what Patrice had done to him long ago? He couldn't think on this right now. He had to believe that he was doing what was right with Jessica, something to benefit the greater good. He drained the glass feeling the veritaserum weakening in his system. Patrice should have known that it wouldn't work on him. All his years brewing the potion in the service of his master had allowed him to build up an extremely high tolerance for the truth serum. It's wasn't well made at any rate. Patrice was poor at brewing potions but she had other assets to her credit.

She had invited him to her room. Far be it for Severus Snape to disappoint his favorite professor. She was aggressive in bed and he was looking for a battle at this moment. He tried to hide his anger but it still shown through his eyes. Grabbing the bottle of alcohol he headed up the stairs to exact a payment that was long over due from the woman that had stolen his soul.

In the morning, Patrice made her way carefully down the rickety stairs. Severus had left in the middle of the night but she was still very much aware of his stay. Her jaw was bruised, her lip split, and her right eye swollen. Every part of her body hurt. When he was seventeen she had taught him about sex and how to play rough but it seemed that he had educated himself well beyond her tutelage. She winced as her blouse brushed the deep scratches he had left along her back, but she couldn't let the pain slow her down as she hurried along to a very important meeting. A sad smile crossed her face. At least she could report to her master that Severus was indeed one of them. The Dark Lord had heard the traitorous rumors and had sent her to seek the truth. She was happy that he had pasted the test. Severus Snape was still very much a warrior of the dark.


End file.
